 | The Earl of Douglas |  |
SCENE III.
The Parliament.Livingston, Crichton, Angus, &c.
Livingston.
My lords, it gives me pain to hint the cause
Of our assembling here; the fell disease
That preys upon the vitals of the State,
Demands an instant cure; too long delay'd,
The spreading evil baffles human skill.
The laws contemn'd, authority despis'd,
Wild Anarchy with hasty step comes on.
Oppression, like a hideous monster, stalks
Relentless through the land. Hard on his heels,
Unpitying Murder reeks with human gore,
Nor fears, nor shuns the sacred light of heav'n.
Pale Misery and weeping Sorrow plead,
They cannot plead in vain—The helpless poor
Have no resource, my lords, but heav'n and you.
Alas! that man, whose debt to social love
Can never be repaid, so soon forgets
How much he owes, and what he daily needs:
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And taught by nature, cries aloud for pity;
Were this deny'd, the noble plant must feel
The bitter frosts of life, and quickly die.
Rear'd by the care of others, up it shoots
To youth, to manhood, the supporting hand
Mean while declining, soon requires the aid
It kindly lent, which horrible to tell!
Is frequently refus'd—Ingrateful man!
To moralize is vain—some sharper remedy
Must be apply'd to the distemper'd State;
But how, or where begin, that is the question?
A question which deserves the last regard.
To me my lords, it seems as clear as noon,
Those instruments of mischief are set on
By some, who envious of their country's peace,
Desire to plunge it in intestine broils;
By some, whose eminence and pow'r give hopes
Of impious protection from the laws.
But who are these?—This is a straitning question,
And few perhaps, will chuse to answer it.
For me I know not—Some indeed have said,
“The young Lord Douglas, with the court disgusted,
“Vain of excessive pow'r, and green in years,
“Protects those miscreants, and contemns the laws.
“The violation of each social duty,
“Connives at in his followers, and presumes
“None dare to call amiss what he approves.”
Perhaps the noble youth, with gentle hand,
And pitying eye, corrects the faults of some;
Perhaps, beset with flatt'rers, he presumes
Too much upon his pow'r, and screens a few,
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But that a princely youth, to virtue train'd,
Would harbour thieves, and murderers, and robbers,
Believe who list, no credence I can give it.
Tho' this is my opinion, I presume not
To say the charge is absolutely false.
In times like these, the strangest things fall out;
And men succeed not to their fathers virtues.
I hope the noble Lord can clear himself;
But were he guilty, should he even refuse
To stand the test of law; would it be prudent
To make a publick breach with him? His pow'r,
The numbers he can raise, his tow'ring spirit
Impatient of restraint, might throw the State
In terrible convulsions. Let me then
Humbly propose, a letter from the States
Be sent Lord Douglas, to intreat his aid,
His personal attendance, and advice.
Lest some about him should with ill design
Instil distrust, and fill with doubts and fears
His generous mind, I think, the States should give
Security to overlook the slips
The warmth of youthful blood may have occasion'd.
Thus far, my lords—
Crichton.
The motion I do second,
As equitable in itself, and tending
So greatly to the honour of the State.
For if the noble Lord be innocent,
As possibly he may, by this the world
Will be convinc'd, we wish to find him so.
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Some trivial deviations from his duty,
The moderation of the States may gain him
To love of virtue, and the publick-good.
This just respect the publick owes his house,
Whose great exploits have oft struck envy dumb,
Spread terror in the hearts of Scotland's foes,
And made their chiefs, inglorious quit the field.
When Edward's hostile arms threw down the bounds
Of antient right, and trampled on our laws;
When broke by factions, and by numbers aw'd,
Our fathers recogniz'd his galling yoke;
Fair Liberty, with mien dejected, stood
To Douglas' eye reveal'd—he greatly rose,
And singly dar'd to vindicate her claim.
Stript of his wide domains, torn from his friends,
Coop'd in the narrow limits of a jail;
Supported by the Liberty he lov'd,
Nor chains, nor death, could move the hero's soul!
Methinks I see the God-like man stretch'd out
Upon the narrow couch, lift up his head,
Collect the small remains of life, and dart
To heav'n his last kind wish for Scotland's peace;
Smile in the hope, his wish acceptance found,
Then greatly die! undaunted, unsubdu'd!
That the Chancellor does not here pay a mere compliment to the family of Douglas, the reader may be satisfied, by turning to the first volume of Rapin's History of England, the folio edition, page, 375[OMITTED] where, narrating the transactions of the year 1296, he tells us, that after Edward the first had reduced all Scotland to his obedience, he summoned the whole nobility and officers of the kingdom to assemble at Berwick, and swear fealty to him. The author adds, “Among the Scotish nobles. William Douglas we [OMITTED] the only person, that could never resolve to swear to a prince, who had no right to Scotland, but what force gave him. This refusal drew on him the indignation of Edward, who commanding him to be conducted to England, kept him in close confinement, where he ended his days, without his misfortunes being ever able to bring him to acknowledge Edward for his sovereign.”
Livingston.
Just is the praise, tho' great, you have bestow'd
On the illustrious chief—To what we mov'd
Do any here object?—My Lord of Angus?—
Angus.
The motion has my hearty approbation.
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Livingston.
Since all agree, my lords, I humbly move,
This letter may be sent before the house
Proceeds to other business. If the terms
I hinted, be your mind, whom you appoint,
May write my Lord of Douglas, in your name.
Crichton.
On you my Lord, I humbly think, the States
Will put the trouble.
Angus.
None so fit my Lord.
(a pause)
Livingston.
This day, my lords, the letter shall be sent;
Mean time, the parliament may be adjourn'd.
[Exeunt.
| The Earl of Douglas | |